


10 Years Too Long

by CommunionNimrod



Series: I will Try ... To Fix You [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Self-Indulgent, Spoilers, i just needed to get this out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-08 17:59:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14110926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommunionNimrod/pseuds/CommunionNimrod
Summary: Major spoilers for Pacific Rim: Uprising.  Slight summary elaboration in the Notes.In which Hermann tries to figure out what to do next.





	10 Years Too Long

**Author's Note:**

> I saw Uprising this past Saturday night and I have just needed to get something, anything into words and out of my head ever since. So here is my self-indulgent word vomit ficlet of Hermann going to see Newt a week after the end of the movie, as he is still tied up and controlled.
> 
> This is the beginnings of my fix-it obsession for these two. Fuck you, Precursors, love will win the day damnit!!! More may come. We shall see. :)

Hermann sighed, rubbing his right temple in frustration, exhaustion, worry, and whatever else was swirling around in his mind at the moment.  The noise echoed through his lab. It was so much quieter than usual, though that might have had to do with the fact that 1) it was 3am, and 2) it had been a week since they had successfully prevented the Kaiju attack on Mt Fuji, so almost everyone was getting a well-deserved break.

 

_ Almost _

 

Hermann refused to take a break.  Ranger Pentecost had tried convincing him every other day to do so, and he continued to refuse.  How could he take a break? He was needed here. He was needed …

 

“Idiot,” he snapped at nothing, slamming the bottom of his cane down on the floor.  Turning in his chair, he leaned over the table again, pouring over the data and brain scans as he tried to make sense of it all.  Trying to find a glimpse of hope, a sign of normalcy, anything to prove that his efforts wouldn’t go to waste and his heart wouldn’t shatter into a million pieces.

 

“Damnit Newton,” he muttered, sniffing. “You idiot, you kaiju-obsessed imbecile, you…”

 

No.   **He** was the idiot.  It had been just under ten years since they parted.  He’d had so much time to see what was going on. He should have KNOWN what was going on.  No one knew Newt like he did, even before they had shared a neural load together, before they had been in each other’s thoughts, memories, feelings.  Even before they’d been in each other’s arms and beds. Yet, Hermann never saw it. It was his fault. He was so foolish. He could have done something, he could have stepped in, figured it out, he could have-

 

“Doctor Gottlieb?” a voice cut in, snapping Hermann out of his spiraling thoughts.  He jumped, straightening his posture and hastily wiping the moisture out of his eyes.  He would do no one any good by getting so emotional.

 

“Yes?” he asked quietly, clearing his throat and looking up.  In the doorway was Jake Pentecost, dressed down, arms crossed.

 

“What are you doing up at this hour?”

 

“I suppose I should ask you the same, Ranger Pentecost,” Hermann commented, taking his glasses off and letting them fall to hang around his neck.

 

“Jake, please,” the man requested, walking over to peer at everything scattered across the desk. “You’ll do him no good like this, you know.  Sleep deprived.”

 

Hermann snorted, starting to gathering everything up and shoving it into a manilla folder.

 

“I’ll do him no good sleeping the days away either, Ranger,” he snapped, ignoring the request for informalities.  There was a pause, a moment where Hermann’s shoulders sagged as he realized the harsh tone of his voice. He cleared his throat again. “Apologies.  It’s true that I am perhaps … a bit sleep deprived. But. At least if I am awake I can do something productive. If I am asleep, all that’s waiting for me is the nightmares.”

 

Jake’s expression softened some.  Hermann pressed his lips together, tearing his gaze away from the young Pentecost to further straighten up the papers that really didn’t need to be straightened.  He felt a pang of insecurity hit him. Admitting the nightmares to Newton (though it wasn’t Newton he’d admitted that to, was it?) was one thing, admitting it to a colleague, and one he knew so little of on top of that, was not something he was used to doing.

 

“How … how is he?” he asked quietly, eyes practically staring a hole into the table in front of him.

 

“Sleeping, as of right now,” Jake answered, drawing no attention to the previous embarrassing confession that was still hovering over Hermann’s head. “He’s been out for a few hours.”

 

“I’m going to go see him.”

 

“Doctor, are you sure that’s-”

 

But Hermann was already on the move, folder tucked under his arm and cane in hand.  If Newton was sleeping, that meant Hermann could have a peaceful moment looking over him.  Maybe that would help clear his head. It certainly had the opposite effect when he was awake and those blasted Precursors were babbling away all sorts of hatred and threats.  He just … he needed to see him.

 

The hard-set determination faded, however, when Hermann began to approach the closed door to the holding cell that Newton was being kept in.  He squared his shoulders, knuckles white with how tightly he was clutching his cane, and breathing shakily. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.  So, as opposed to strutting on in, Hermann backtracked slightly and entered the adjacent room, where the monitoring equipment was set up.

 

He nearly scared the young Private out of her seat as he barged in.  She scrambled up, turning in her chair with wide eyes and slightly disheveled hair.

 

“D-doctor Gottlieb,” she stammered.

 

“Ranger Pentecost said he has been asleep for a few hours now, yes?” he asked, ignoring her nervousness and walking right over so that he could look at the monitor showing the live feed inside the cell.  He slipped his glasses back on, staring at the unmoving form of his … former partner.

 

“That’s correct,” the woman confirmed, nodding and rolling her chair backwards a bit to give him some room.  If Hermann wasn’t so focused, he’d be grateful. He’d have to thank her later. And also get her name.

 

“What is this evening’s report?” he asked, eyes locked on the screen.  Newton was breathing, Hermann could see the way his chest was slowly rising and falling, but that was the only indication of life currently.  The man was slumped in the metal chair he was chained to, head down, face obscured. Both arms - tattoos vibrant as ever and visible as the sleeves were rolled up - were hanging down between his knees.  His hair was a mess, his shirt stained and torn. 

 

Hermann’s heart ached.

 

“Well, uh … with all due respect, Doctor, Ranger Pentecost should probably be the one to-”

 

“ _ Report _ , Private.”

 

“Y-yessir,” she sighed. “Doctor Geiszler has been … animated this evening.  Lots of threats, screaming, demands. The, uh … the  _ things _ speaking through him have been … well.”

 

“Been what?” Hermann asked impatiently.

 

“Confusing, sir.”

 

For the first time since he walked in, Hermann tore his eyes off the monitor to look at the Private.

 

“What do you mean, confusing?” he asked slowly,

 

“Well.  There’s been a lot of back and forth tonight,” she started to explain. “Between them and him.  At least, it seems that way, sir. Unless they’re just really trying to lull us into a false sense of security.”

 

Hermann’s heart was pounding.  She was saying that Newton had emerged some tonight?  That he spoke? It wasn’t just the Precursors?? That hadn’t happened in two days.  Why in the bloody hell did Pentecost not SAY something?!

 

“I would like to see the tapes, please,” he requested in a much calmer voice than he expected.

 

“Um,” the Private stammered, glancing towards the monitor, and then towards the door.

 

“NOW Private, if you please,” Hermann demanded, dropping the manilla folder onto the metal table harshly.

 

“Yessir, yes.  Just a moment.”

 

She swerved towards a second, blank monitor, and began to boot things up.  Hermann looked back at the live feed. No change.  _ Oh Newt … Why can’t you just come back to me? _

 

“Here you go,” the Private prompted, drawing Hermann’s attention to the other monitor.

 

The playback started up, and instantly he could feel a twist in his gut.  Newt/Not Newt was breathing heavily, screaming angrily, and twisting his entire form so much that the chair rocked back and forth slightly.

 

“ **_LET US OUT, YOU INSUFFERABLE, INSIGNIFICANT PILES OF FLESH AND BONE_ ** ,” he snarled.  The voice was distorted again, alien, and it made Hermann shiver.  He clung to his cane even tighter.

 

“Mmmm, nah,” came Ranger Pentecost’s voice. “Don’t think I will.  Kinda like you just where you are.”

 

“ **_You will regret this.  We will destroy your world.  You cannot escape it, only delay.  You will all burn and die and in your last moments you will beg for forgiveness, and you WILL NOT RECEIVE IT._ ** ”

 

“Yeah sure, you keep talkin’ the big talk there, Precursors,” Pentecost said, sounding incredibly bored.  Hermann would have found it amusing if the whole display wasn’t so horrific. “Now, you gonna start talking, or shall we make things interesting?”

 

Fear clenched Hermann then.  It sounded too much like Jake Pentecost was suggesting … No.  No, Hermann would not allow it. That was Newton’s body. He was still in there.  There was no way Hermann would allow for them to start something as insane as torture.  They needed to let HIM try, why would they not let him try?

 

Newton laughed, spitting at the ground between them, struggling again.  The chair rocked, the pained grunting continued, and Hermann swore he could hear Pentecost actually yawn now.  This scene went on for a few more minutes, Hermann tearing his gaze away briefly to stare at the live (almost lifeless) feed again.  The difference was astounding.

 

Then, the noises changed.  The fury left the grunting, the chair stopped rocking.  Hermann squinted, moving closer to the monitor. Newt/Not Newt slumped for a minute and sobbed.  Hermann’s eyes widened.

 

“Please …” came a desperate, small voice.

 

“Newt!” Hermann gasped out loud, his free hand covering his mouth shakily.  The Private said nothing, and Hermann wasn’t even aware she was staring at him.

 

“Please please please, make it stop.  Just make it stop, get them out. Please, I can’t, I can’t,” Newt started babbling, looking around.  Even with the camera propped up in the corner, Hermann could see those wide eyes, full of fear and life, glistening wet with tears.  Hermann could barely contain a sob of his own.

 

“Doctor Geiszler?” Pentecost asked, stepping into view as he approached.  Newt looked at him.

 

“ _ Please _ , you have to …you have to make it stop, please make it stop,” he begged.

 

“How?” Pentecost asked.

 

“Kill me, I can’t, I can’t handle it, I’m not strong enough, I can’t fight them you need to end it please end it.”

 

“Tell us where they are, how we can get to them,” Pentecost probed, ignoring Newt’s begs for death.  Hermann could not. It was all he could hear, the pained words echoing in his mind, smothering his consciousness.

 

“I don’t I don’t, I-I-I … I don’t know, please I’m not strong enough I’m not -  **_HE’S WEAK HE WILL DIE WE ARE ALL THAT REMAINS_ ** .”

 

The flailing began again.  Hermann stumbled back a step, but he couldn’t stop watching.  Ranger Pentecost shook his head and turned.

 

“Until later then,” he said, walking out of frame.

 

“ **_NO WAIT NO_ ** no no nonononononono, please, PLEASE, don’t go, please I need them gone, I need it to stop it hurts so much it-”

 

There was a loud thud in the feed, presumably Ranger Pentecost leaving the cell and closing it.  Newt struggled against his bonds, crying again.

 

“Hermann, get Hermann, please, he’ll understand he can help, he can end it, GET HERMANN PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU I NEED HERMANN I NEED TO SEE HIM-”

 

The crying yells turned into distorted screams again as the Precursors took control and began to flail as wildly as before.

 

“Stop it, turn it off,” Hermann gasped, turning entirely and staring at the wall.  The footage stopped abruptly, an uncomfortable silence filling the small room immediately.

 

Hermann shut his eyes tight, wiping the tears away roughly with his sleeve.  His entire body shook, he felt like he was about to lose balance. The pain hurt in ways regular pain did not.  This was the pain resonating between them, whatever residual neural link they still had that time and the Precursors had not destroyed.  Hermann felt hollow. But through all of this, in everything that had happened and changed, he would not fall apart in front of someone he did not know.  So, he took shaky deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

 

“Sir?” the Private asked softly after a few moments.  Hermann waited, positive that he was composed before turning to look at her.

 

“Yes Private, thank you,” he said, his voice cracking.

 

“Sir, I think he’s…” she started, eyes turning towards the live feed.

 

Hermann looked over, seeing the still form of Newt stirring slightly.  His breath hitched in his throat. What would wake up this evening? His friend, his lover, his companion?  Or those horrid creatures?

 

The groan he let out was very Newton.  His movements were slow, exhausted. He tugged at his bonds sluggishly.  Hermann stood up straight. It was a hunch he was going to go with.

 

“I’m going in,” he announced calmly, turning and all but running out of the room before he could be stopped.  This time, there was no hesitation as he approached the cell door. He all but flung himself against it, fumbling with his keycard until he got it unlocked and made his way in.

 

The air was stale with the smell of sweat and blood.  It almost knocked Hermann off his focus, but no. The way Newt looked at him, he knew.  It was him.

 

“Hermann,” Newt croaked, lip quivering. “Herms,  _ please _ .”

 

Hermann closed the distance in an instant, dropping his cane to the floor with a loud clatter and falling to his knees right in front of the other man.  The sharp pain that shot through his right leg made his teeth clench. He grabbed at Newt’s bonded hands, squeezing them, tears welling up in his eyes.

 

“I’m here Newton, I’m here,” he reassured the man, and for the first time in what felt like forever, relief passed across Newt’s face.

 

“Herms, listen to me,” Newt said, clinging onto Hermann’s hands for dear life.  It hurt, but not as much as everything else did. Those warm, calloused hands were comforting. “Listen, you need to end this.  You can do it, I know you can.”

 

“Do not be foolish, you idiot,” Hermann spat, and the condescending tone actually caused Newt to laugh a bit hysterically.  As if the years hadn’t been so harsh on them, as if they weren’t in this current situation.

 

“Hermann, please, I don’t have a lot of time, I can’t hold them back, please-”

 

“I am going to fix this,” he insisted, interrupting Newt’s pleas. “Do you hear me?  I am going to FIX this. I need you, Newton. I cannot do this without you. I will get them out, you just need to hang on.  You ARE strong enough, you are the strongest man I know, you can do this.”

 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say it sounds like you’re professing your love to me all over again,” Newt whispered, a tired but genuine smile on his face.  It was Hermann’s turn to laugh.

 

“You’ve been in my head, Newt, you know that’s exactly right.”

 

“Please hurry Herms, I can’t keep them, I can’t-”

 

Newt shut his eyes tight and yelled out in pain, pushing Hermann’s hands away hastily.  Hermann would have been crushed if he hadn’t already realized what was going on. He fell back onto his rear, scrambling back a few paces, and the yelling turned to laughter.  When Newt looked up again, he was gone. The eyes were harsh and the grin was wide, too wide. 

 

“ **_How precious_ ** ,” he sneered.  Hermann’s eyes slanted and he stood, scoping his cane up.

 

“You will rue the day you decided to take control of this man’s mind,” he threatened, squaring his shoulders.  Not Newt snorted and rolled his eyes.

 

“ **_Yeah I’m sure we will_ ** ,” he sneered. “ **_YOU are the one who will be full of regret, once we are free from this place we will be sure to come for you first, Doctor Hermann Gottlieb._ ** ”

 

“You days are numbered,” Hermann threatened, turning and heading for the door. “I believe you and I will be spending a lot of time together.”

 

“ **_Try all you want, we will never let him go.  He is ours. We have laid claim to his body and mind, and NOTHING YOU DO WILL CHANGE THAT._ ** ”

 

Hermann felt a fiery anger in his belly.  The pain and sorrow and tears were all replaced with determination and fury.  He opened the door, but looked over his shoulder at Not Newt and sneered.

 

“I had claim to both of those long before you came along - and I had it given to me willingly,” he gloated. “This is a battle you will not win.”

 

Before Not Newt could say anything else, before Hermann’s resolve shattered, he stormed out and slammed the door.  He made it five steps before his adrenaline left in a rush and he collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily, the tears returning.  But even as he started to cry, there by himself in a corridor, outside of the room where the man he loved more than anything was captive by the PPDC, by the Precursors, trapped in his own mind, confidence returned to him.

 

Hermann would win this fight.  He just knew he would.

 

As the tears stopped, Hermann pushed himself up and began to make his way back to the lab.  He had work to do.


End file.
